“Great,” replied Mackin. “Just the guy I want. Get him for me, Spotter.”
“I’ll try. But he’s away, now, on some big racket. He’s got too much nerve to waste his time on small stuff.”
“Well, the job I mentioned is a big one.”
“Only once,” said Spotter reminiscently, “that Birdie Crull ever got fooled. That was when I run into a big car for him, an’ he pulls a rod on the bloke in the back seat. Right in the middle of the street. But he got his that night. Who do you think was in the car, Reds?”
“Some bulls?”
“No. The Shadow!”
* * *
There was a momentary pause after Spotter had uttered that ominous name. The tone of the little man’s voice was tense and fearful. Reds Mackin laughed.
“The Shadow!” he jeered. “That’s a lot of talk. The Shadow! Who was with him? Santa Claus?”
“Don’t fool yourself, Reds,” replied Spotter, seriously. “This Shadow guy is real! I seen him myself, that night.